The Making of Miss Fortune
by Sombulist
Summary: This is my first chapter of Miss Fortune's story. It will probably be funnier/ crazier as I go on, but I wanted to get stuff established.


_The Making of Miss Fortune_

**Prologue**

Sarah Fortune lived quietly with her respectable parents on the Northern chunk of Blue Flame Island. She went to school, she gossiped with friends, and she returned home every night for dinner with her parents. She shyly flirted with boys in her class. Deep inside, she knew this would be her life. But she also knew that this life, while sweet and happy, was boring. At age 14, she looked at her parents and thought, boring. She nodded off during class, with that word echoing in her head. She made eyes at Bryce Bokin, causing him to blush and drop his books, and still that one word haunted her.

Barely a year later, she would wish for those boring times. She would dream of them and wake up happy for a moment before reality set in. That quiet, boring life was so far behind her now. It had left her suddenly on that day when she had come home to find her mother covered in blood. When the red-eyed demon spawn had taken her parents and her boring, normal life from her. That was the day Miss Fortune was born, and Sarah Fortune was left behind.

People think many things when they look at Miss Fortune. "What an amazing fighter!" and "She's so sexy...scary...no SEXY!" are usually in the top five. Once in awhile someone asks the fascinating question, "Where does she keep all those bullets?" Very few people realize that beneath her grin and her strut is a heart beating for one purpose alone: vengeance.

Someone once said "Before seeking revenge, dig two graves."

Miss Fortune heard "Bring two guns."

**Chapter One: Lucky in Bilgewater**

Soaking wet, with shabby clothes, and all the money she could get from her parent's estate, Miss Fortune at age 15 looked like an easy mark. After the attack at her house on Blue Flame Island, she knew enough to be weary, but not enough to be prepared. She should have hired a guard. Or better yet, stayed with her mom's distant relatives and tried to forget. Perhaps, she could have recaptured a portion of her happy, boring life. Instead, she took her money and bought a knife, which she hid in her skirts as she walked into Bilgewater. This city was known for its seedy underground and pirate clientele. It was the best place to start her hunt. As she walked, she clenched that knife in her hand and tried not to think about anything but stabbing the red-eyed pirate until he screamed for mercy.

She, of course, would not be swayed in the least by his screams, but she would let him think he had a chance. A glimmer of hope to make the final stab all the sweeter for her. She wanted to see the hope seep for his eyes, and then rekindle it ever so slightly, just to rip it to shreds with her hands and her knife. She would play with him for hours, for days. She would draw it out, until it became almost boring. That would be a fitting death for one so vile; for his death to be a thing of boredom.

As she got lost her vengeful fantasy, a figure lunged at her from the shadow of a building. Jerking out of her mind and into reality, Fortune raised her hands to fend him off. It wasn't until seconds later, as the man slumped against her, that she remembered her death grip on the newly purchased knife.

She pulled her knife back, cringing at the popping sound it made as it slid out of the stranger's gut. She looked at the bloody knife, then at the wound, then finally to his face. His eyes couldn't seem to comprehend what had happened, then they lost focus.

"Well, it's a good thing he's wanted dead or alive," said a loud, deep voice from a few feet away. Miss Fortune jerked her gaze up-and then up some more- to meet the eyes of a very tall, very burly man. The first thing she noticed was his size. How could you not notice it first?! He was bigger than a bear! The second thing she noticed was his artillery. He was decked out in knives, guns, ammo, spikes, and what looked like a small cannon on his back.

"Boris, get the riffraff," the walking, talking one man gun show shouted to another smaller, slightly less decked out man. This "Boris" grabbed the bloody, dying man and hoisted him over his shoulder. Miss Fortune at first thought to protest, and then realized they must be taking to the hospital. Suddenly, she realized this was not a good situation to find herself on her first day in town. They might call the police. She couldn't find her parent's murderer if she was locked up. She could argue it was an accident but who would believe her? What was she going-

"Hey, little miss, you are going to have to come with us if you want your reward," boomed the voice of the cannon-carrying man. Sarah looked up at him stunned. He waved his hands in front of her face. "Hello in there! I said, do you want the reward for capturing him?" he roared.

Sarah snapped back to reality. "I'm not blind or deaf. Where do I need to go? And how much is this reward?" Miss Fortune remembered she wasn't some shy, little girl from a forgotten island. Not anymore.

"There you are, coming out of it with a little fire," said the giant. "Walk with me back to the shop. I'm Rithyr. I own Bilgewater's number one bounty hunters agency. Lucky of you to have a knife handy when that thug tried to jump you. He's wanted for 7 other robberies and a handful of murders. Another member of our illustrious Scum of the City. We were tracking him down when he tried to nab you bold as brass out in the middle of the street." He finished his little monologue with a spit on the ground as if to get the taste of his mouth. Sarah thought that looked like a good idea, so she spit, too. Unfortunately, she wasn't as expert at spitting as Rithyr, so it went right on his shoe. She glanced at him sideways and hoped he hadn't noticed.

"So we are heading to your shop? What's it called?" asked Miss Fortune quickly, as she flashed a smile to try and distract him for her folly.

"Head Hunters, Inc. We have a special "buy one get a whole gallon of my homeopathic tea" deal going right now. So, if you know anyone who needs killing or just some tying up, we can give you the best rates AND some medicinal tea." He smiled and shamelessly promoted his business.

The other younger man who wasn't carrying the "riffraff" slide up beside Sarah and mumbled, "His special tea is a combination of weeds, vinegar, and cheap ale."

"Give me a break here, Norris. I'm trying to make a sale," said Rithyr with a half-hearted swat to Norris's shoulder. Good thing it was half-hearted, because a real push from him would find young Norris in the next town. As it was, the shove made him hit the wall of the building. Miss Fortune thought it was good thing Rithyr was in the business of hurting people, because he wasn't really suited to, well, not hurting them.

They reached a building with a sign that sure enough read Head Hunters, Inc. Rithyr opened the door, and Boris carried the now dead man inside and threw him on a cot behind some bars in the back of the shop. Sarah stepped in and looked around. The place was small, or at least seemed so with Rithyr taking up half the space. All over the walls were drawings of wanted men and women along with a list of their aliases, crimes, and who would pay to have them brought to justice. Rithyr took down one picture that looked vaguely familiar to Miss Fortune. Across the bottom of the page the bold words, **WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE, **made the whole thing a little more surreal. It hit her that her first kill...catch...let's say catch...was this man. A man who apparently was named Guts M'Dee, who had a list of horrible deeds to his name, and who was wanted by the Bilgewater Government itself. Well, it could be considered practice for her big hunt, couldn't it? She turned away and put those thoughts into a pocket in her head. Hopefully, to only appear later as nothing more than lint. She wandered around some more and looked at the other wanted signs.

"So I can give you the reward, and collect it from the big boys later if you want," offered Rithyr. "That way you can get to where you're headed, all safe and sound."

"Okay, but I'm not really headed anywhere," Sarah said, "I'm looking for-..."

Her words cut off with a gasp. It was him.

"Him! This demon," she shouted.

"Him? What would a pretty, little thing like you want with a villain like him?" a puzzled Rithyr questioned back.

"I want to kill him."

Rithyr was quiet for a second, stunned by the pure hatred in the voice of one so young. Then, he said, "Yeah, that's the general consensus of everyone who has met the bastard."

"Have you?" Excitement and fury laced her voice.

"No, no, if I had he wouldn't be hanging on this wall still," he answered with a chuckle. "So, would you like to purchase a hit, I mean, a bounty for him? We can add it to his existing order and get more people interested."

"No, I want him. By myself. With a knife...well, maybe a gun. He's mine. And I will do whatever it takes to find him."

Rithyr let out a grunt.

"Well, that sounds like a job interview if I ever heard one. But, I'm warning you, if you spit on my boots again, you're fired."

Sarah looked at Rithyr, saw his scary look, and slowly smiled. She raised her hand, and Rithyr's huge oven mitt clasped and shook her hand emphatically. She felt something like a combination of hope and exhilaration rise up from her stomach. She was one step closer to her red-eyed demon.

And he was one step closer to dead.


End file.
